


You Can Run

by Jetsetlife138



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Bullying, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fear of Death, Oral Sex, Roughness, Self-Insert, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-19 23:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16544027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetsetlife138/pseuds/Jetsetlife138
Summary: A promise you once made to Michael comes back to haunt you.ON HIATUS - I'll be back, I promise <3





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am shameless.

Haddonfield Elementary School. That’s where it all began. Well, for you anyway. For Michael, the journey had started long before that day. It was a mystery how long that boy had been internally tormented by whatever demons he possessed. Whatever the reason, you could never bring yourself to allow someone to suffer at the hands of others, regardless of their unnaturally stoic and unemotional nature.

That day would forever be seared into your mind. Engrained so that you weren’t able to forget even if you wanted to. You could so easily recall seeing a group of kids surrounded in a circle, taunting and jeering at something within their formation. It wasn’t often that the rest of the playground was abandoned for the large patch of dirt that sat beside the common area where children most often played. The teachers were either clueless or uncaring. Probably the latter if you were being honest with yourself.

Their gathering had piqued your curiosity. As an inquisitive child, you couldn’t keep yourself from wandering over to the circle, intrigued to see what held every other kid’s attention on the other side of the playground. However, when you approached the group, even at your age, the sight disgusted you.

There, in the middle of the circle, was a beaten child, covered in blood, sweat, and dirt. The children around him were taking their turns kicking him on the ground, digging the soles of their shows into his shaking fingers in the dirt while tearing him down with their harsh words and cruel jeers. One thing that particularly stood out in this madness was that the abused boy had shed no tears. Though the pain must have been severe, and the embarrassment should have affected him, he simply took each blow without a word or even a pained expression.

The boy was well known among the children and faculty. He had been what you had heard the teachers express as “problematic”. In addition to the fact that he never participated in school activities, he had never uttered a word to anyone. A memory had stuck out to you when you had complimented his drawing of what appeared to be an endless black mass, scribbled angrily onto paper, but your compliment went unnoticed as he avoided your gaze, and continued drawing as if you didn’t exist.

You had lost interest in the boy after that day, knowing that he wouldn’t make a very entertaining companion. Though to be honest, you certainly weren't the most popular kid in class either. You often kept to yourself, lost in your own fantasies or artistic creations made of whatever you could get your hands on, but you weren’t necessarily an outcast either. You just sort of… existed.

Michael, on the other hand, was certainly noticed by all of the other children. This wasn’t the first time that he had been mocked or criticized by the children due to his abnormal behavior. Though his reaction was always the same. Unaffected and unafflicted. Or so it would seem.

Something had snapped inside of you on the day that you saw Michael beaten to the ground by your peers. Before your inexperienced mind could stop itself, you had found yourself standing beside Michael, challenging the other children around you with crossed arms and a glare beyond your years.

“Move, stupid!” one of the other children called out to you.

“No! Leave him alone!” you shouted back, standing your ground.

The other children glanced at each other in confusion, waiting to see who would react first. Finally, the tallest, most popular boy spoke up, “If you don’t move, we’re gonna hit you too.”

“Go ahead, Jordan!” you retorted, no regard for any form of consequence. “But if you hit _him_ one more time, I’ll tell everyone about Mr. Pickles!”

You knew you had him wrapped around your finger as soon as the words left your mouth and the shocked expression adorned his face like he had just been slapped. A smirk graced your lips in return at the memory of Mr. Pickles. You didn’t forget how Jordan cried to himself in a corner of the tent that you and the other students had shared last year for your school field trip.

It was the middle of the night when his soft cries had awoken you. Immediately concerned, you got up, sat on his bed, and comforted him while he explained that he had forgotten to bring his stuffed teddy bear, Mr. Pickles, which he took everywhere with him. He couldn’t sleep without it.

You had stayed up with Jordan until he eventually cried himself to sleep, consoled by your presence. Of course, after the field trip, he had conveniently neglected your very existence, which was fine by you anyway. However, you weren’t going to allow him to lead others into a witch hunt for the odd boy who never spoke.

The other children murmured amongst themselves, clearly confused and wondering what you had meant by Mr. Pickles. Jordan snorted definitely, seemingly unaffected by your words after the initial anxiety had worn off. “Whatever. He’s not worth it anyway.”

He motioned for the others to follow him as the circle of terror had dissipated and everyone had migrated to the playground to continue their recess as if nothing had happened. Savages.

Gently, you reached down to offer the boy your hand, but he ignored it, pushing himself off of the ground and staring blankly ahead, unfazed by the incident. “Are you okay?” you asked, knowing that you wouldn’t get a response in return. “Don’t worry about Jordan anymore. He’s a jerk.” It wasn’t enough that you had saved the boy from additional torment. You had the strange desire to establish a connection with him for whatever reason.

Pondering for a moment, you thought about how you could gain his trust when the idea suddenly struck you. Reaching into your hair, you snapped off a sparkly green barrette, gazing at it for a moment in your hand before offering it to him. “Here.”

For the first time, he had turned his attention toward you, looking at the pretty green object in the palm of your hand. Instead of taking the small item, his eyes flickered to yours, reading you.

Entertained by his lack of understanding, you laughed and reached down to lift his hand and placed the green barrette inside of it. “It’s a friendship token. Now we’re friends! As long as you have that, I’ll be here to protect you,” you promised.

He lifted his other hand and tenderly ran his fingers along the small hair accessory. You couldn’t tell if he was pleased with your offering, or if he was confused by it, but either way, once he was done inspecting it, he placed it in his pocket and walked away from you without another word.

Flabbergasted, you stared after him as he walked toward the fence, apparently no longer interested in your presence. Shrugging it off, you left to continue to play on your own in the grass by the slide.

There was no way you could have known what would happen only hours later after your interaction with him. It was that very night that Michael had ended his sister’s life when she met the other end of the butcher’s knife that he had taken from their kitchen and plunged repeatedly into her skin.

Rumors circulated regarding what exactly had happened. Some said that he was found bathing in his sister’s blood when the police found him. Others had said that he was found lying in the street, confused as to where he was. However, one thing that was never left out was the fact that Michael had worn a freaky clown mask as he brutally murdered his own sister.

Though the stories about Michael had died down through the years, you had never forgotten the boy who you had offered your friendship to, feeling somewhat remorseful of the child who had so many unspoken demons and pent-up aggression that he felt the need to end a life.

Unbeknownst to you, however… Michael hadn’t forgotten you either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be some build-up, but if you've got a Michael Myers kink, like me, you're in for a treat. 
> 
> Talk to me!  
> KIK: Jetsetlife138  
> Tumblr: Jetsetlife138  
> What'sUp: Jetsetlife138  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a trash author. Apologies in advance. You knew what you signed up for.

 

Fifteen years later.

Your body was going through the motions during your morning routine while your mind wandered. You had three back-to-back classes today, but at least after they were finished you had some fun festivities planned. Your friend was throwing a Halloween party at his apartment outside of campus. Having been to his parties before, you knew that you were in for a treat.

Your television was turned on, the volume muffled in the background as you got ready. You always had your television on in the morning for white noise, though you never paid much attention to it. Honestly, it didn’t even really matter what channel it was on, so you paid little attention to the news channel that it had been turned to that morning.

You went to blow-dry your hair, all other noise drowned out by the loud device as you styled your hair just the way you liked. It wasn’t until you turned off the dryer that you could hear the low murmur of the anchorman on the television. “Michael Myers of Haddonfield” rang across your bedroom, clear as day, causing you to drop the hairbrush that you were holding as a chill ran down your spine.

Practically leaping toward the television, your gaze poured onto the screen as you listened intently.

“Several mental health patients escaped from the psychiatric unit of Smith’s Grove Sanitarium around eleven o’clock yesterday evening. Most of the patients have been apprehended and returned to Smith’s Grove apart from one by the name of Michael Myers. Myers was previously arrested fifteen years ago for the gruesome murder of his older sister, Judith Myers. He was sentenced to several different psychiatric hospitals throughout the years after being found not competent to stand trial.

The leading deputy with Haddonfield County Sheriff's Office stated that the town’s safety is ‘our number one priority’ when asked about the situation. He continues to say, ‘Our internal investigation at this time revealed hospital staff may have inadvertently or purposefully neglected proper notification and supervision of Myers, whom we believe led the others to escape.’ The Sheriff's Office is urging the public to be on alert but not to try to approach Myers, as he could still be considered dangerous.

Seven employees have been suspended for thirty days while the investigation proceeds…”

You couldn’t listen anymore. There was no way that they wouldn’t eventually find and capture him, but you were somewhat… worried? How ridiculous! You barely knew the kid, and yet after all of this time, you still held a soft spot for him. You had always wondered what happened that night with his sister, still considering Michael as the partial victim in your mind after seeing first-hand how he was bullied and berated by the faculty. Maybe it had been the same with his own family? Whatever the reason, you never knew what Michael was capable of, and you had hoped that the situation would sort itself out without anyone getting harmed.

Brushing off your guilt for being a killer-sympathizer, you turned off the television and continued to get ready in silence. However, news of Michael’s escape followed you throughout the entire day, beginning with your first class.

“Did you guys hear about Myers?” one of the guys asked in your group after you had split up to complete the class worksheets.

“Yeah, Eric. I heard he’s seeking refuge in your mom’s bed,” the other guy joked, chuckling at his own outdated sense of humor.

“Fuck off, Aaron,” the first guy laughed, punching him playfully on the shoulder. “I’m serious, that’s some scary shit.”

The other girl in your group rolled her eyes, chewing on the end of her pencil before chiming in. “Whatever. He’s, like, a vegetable now. He’s been rotting in the crazy house for over a decade. He’s not a threat to anyone.”

“Becca, how would you even know? Have you seen him since 1st grade?” Aaron asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

“No, but he was always a messed up kid. So he killed his sister? Big deal. We’ve all imagined killing our siblings at least once. I don’t think that he’s smart enough to orchestrate an escape. I think it’s all just a Halloween hoax, honestly.”

“Can we just drop it?” you piped up, refusing to look at them as you filled out part of the worksheet. You could feel their eyes on you, silently judging you while they waited for an additional response. Sighing, you complied. “He had a tough time when he was younger. We have no idea what went on behind closed doors. Just because he didn’t talk a lot doesn’t mean that he was crazy.”

“Oh, he’s crazy. There’s no doubt in my mind,” Eric replied, shaking his head. “My uncle worked the crime scene. He said he’d never seen anything so brutal in his life. When they were trying to interrogate Michael at the scene, he said that he wasn’t even upset over it. Only someone as fucked up as Michael could have done something like that and not feel remorse.”

You finally managed to tune out their gossip as you finished your worksheet alone, not at all interested in the ongoing stories that you had heard over and over again for the past fifteen years. You never bought into any of it, though it was hard to deny the evidence. Whatever the reason, you couldn’t let it bother you. Michael was a part of your past, not the present.

Hours later, after suffering through mundane courses and more gossip surrounding the escapees, it was finally time to leave for the party. Your costume was simple, just a yellow dress with a layered green headband to insinuate that you were a pineapple. It definitely wasn’t your most well thought-out design, but when you’re in your final year of college, there are more pressing matters than your what to wear to a Halloween party.

The apartment was already packed as you headed in, eyes darting around the crowd for your friend, the host of the party. Before you could see him, you heard him call out from across the room. “Hey, Bitch! It’s about goddamn time!”

You turned around, beaming at the fabulous pirate walking toward you. “Hey, Jesse! Wow, so you’re a pirate? I can’t say that I was expecting that.”

“Arg, I’m on the hunt for some booty,” he winked, adjusting his eyepatch playfully and nodding in the direction of a particularly attractive guy leaning against the wall smoking a joint with his friends. “And what might you be?” he asked, flicking the top of your green hairpiece.

“I’m a pineapple!” He furrowed his brows at you, clearly unimpressed. “Shut up! I had to put it together quickly! You’re lucky I showed up in a costume at all.”

He chuckled, pulling you in for a kiss on the cheek. “Fine, whatever. I’m just glad you’re here. I intend to get laid tonight and I will not rest until we both end the night with our legs in the air, you got it?”

“Jesus, Jesse,” you laughed, never getting used to his disregard for discretion. “Good luck with that.”

“Go get a drink and meet me back in here in five minutes!” Jesse urged, pushing you toward the kitchen where the alcohol was calling your name. “Tonight’s going to be great!”

Making your way to the kitchen, you had an odd sense of unease fall over you. Maybe it was the stress of exams or being around a large crowd. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t going away, and you had hoped that the alcohol would help alleviate the unpleasant feeling.

* * *

His gaze followed you through the window as you walked into the adjacent room. Even from a distance, he couldn’t have mistaken anyone else for you, especially in the bright yellow dress that adorned your body that night.

His breathing quickened at the sight of you, his chest heaving slightly with each intake of air as he crept from the darkness and into view, the light from above the porch illuminating the white of his mask.

“Check out this guy!” one of the partygoers walking by called out. Michael turned to face the source of the sound to see an inebriated group of young men, stumbling toward him, their drinks still in hand. “Dude, what the fuck are you supposed to be?”

Michael looked down at his dark coverall suit, which he had stolen from someone who was no longer in need of it, seeing as how he was dead. Once he had finished inspecting his own clothing, his face lifted to meet the obnoxious drunk who had gotten too close for comfort.

“Hello in there!” the man yelled closely to Michael’s ear, playfully pretending to knock on the side of his head to get his attention. “Earth to the creepy guy staring into windows!”

“Bro, this guy’s drunk as fuck. He doesn’t even know where he is,” one of the other guys laughed, stumbling as he walked.

“See something you like in there?” the first guy asked, stepping forward to lean on Michael’s shoulder. “Those girls are hot, right? I can definitely think of some things I’d like to-”

Before he could finish his thought, the blade of Michael’s knife sliced into his jugular, his blood pouring in spurts down his front for a few moments before he collapsed to the ground.

The other two stood there in shock, not at all comprehending the egregious murder of their friend. Unfortunately for them, Michael didn’t give them the time to process before he had punctured the chest of one and dug his knife into the belly of the other, their screams drowned out by the music and chatter of the partygoers in the house, oblivious to what would await them moments later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be longer with a lot packed into it. Stay tuned! 
> 
> Talk to me!  
> KIK: Jetsetlife138  
> Tumblr: Jetsetlife138  
> WhatsApp: Jetsetlife138  
> 


End file.
